


House of Healing

by Celandine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: lupin_snape, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Post - Deathly Hallows, Romance, Snupin Santa Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-17
Updated: 2012-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-29 17:36:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celandine/pseuds/Celandine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus never expected to hold a position of any authority, but running the Sirius Black Memorial House is easier than he thought it might be, until the night someone unexpected turns up at the door...</p>
            </blockquote>





	House of Healing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ellid (Ellidfics)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellidfics/gifts).



> Written for ellid for the 2011 Snupin Santa exchange at lupin_snape; the entire halfway house concept was part of her prompt, so I cannot claim credit for that wonderful idea, only for trying to embody it!

"Thanks for coming, Remus. There's tea in the other room."

"That sounds wonderful," Remus accepted, as he followed Harry along the hallway. "I see Mrs Black's portrait is still here."

"Yes, unfortunately, although we have managed to get a variation of _Silencio_ to work on it. Hermione's promised to do some research to see if there's any way to counteract the Permanent Sticking Charm. It's not just Mrs Black's portrait, either; the house-elf heads and rather a lot of posters in Sirius's old room seem to have been attached with the same charm, and I'd like to be able to remove all of them."

"Oh, are you planning to sell, or are you going to live here?" Remus stirred milk into his tea and took a sandwich.

"No. That is, Ginny still has another year at school anyhow, and I'm planning to sit my N.E.W.T.s and then see if the Aurors will accept me for training, so we wouldn't be moving in together for a while anyhow, but she says she absolutely will not live in such a gloomy place, ever. But before I go on about that, tell me, how are things with you?" Harry bit into a cream slice.

Remus grimaced. "Only fair, I'm afraid. It's been more than a little awkward living with Andromeda. We were never close, and now that she's lost her husband and daughter, all she has left of her family is Teddy. I feel like an interloper even though he's _my_ son. Plus, the simple fact that I survived when Dora didn't underscores the fact that I'm a werewolf, and understandably that's not something she's ever been terribly comfortable with."

"I thought that might be the case," said Harry, nodding. "I'm sorry to hear it, but I wanted to talk with you about an idea I have that might put you in a better situation."

"What?" asked Remus.

Harry gestured at the room. "There's this huge house here, sitting empty. I've counted something like a dozen bedrooms."

"That sounds about right," Remus agreed.

"Plus, the old Fidelius charm is gone, or nearly so. Muggles still can't see the place, but anyone magical can now, and get to the door.

"I've been thinking. There are still a lot of wizarding families displaced by the war; all of the Muggle-borns and half-bloods that Umbridge and her gang were persecuting. Some of them have managed to reclaim their homes and lives, but not all of them. There were a lot of records destroyed, jobs given to others, and so forth. I was thinking that Grimmauld Place could be turned into a kind of halfway house to help at least some of those people while they're trying to put their lives back together.

"Some of the larger bedrooms could be used as dormitories, perhaps holding six or eight kids each, boys and girls separately. Then the other bedrooms could be used for couples, up to the number that would fit. Very young children might go in with their parents, and unmarried older witches and wizards could have rooms to themselves or shared, depending. I've talked with Kingsley and he says Ministry engineers could add on more rooms as needed with wizarding space enchantments.

"The drawing room and library could be used for liaisons from the Ministry to meet with clients and work out how to restore their normal lives: re-creating records when necessary, finding new employment, and so forth. I'd want to see a room set aside for an office for a healer from St Mungo's, too, to help with any magical or other traumas they might have suffered."

"It sounds like a splendid idea, Harry. You've clearly thought about this a good deal."

"Thanks." Harry flushed. "I had help; Hermione especially helped me come up with the idea in the first place, and Kingsley's given some suggestions too."

"Well, I wish you success." Remus lifted his tea cup in a toast.

"I haven't gotten to the important part yet," Harry said. "I want _you_ to be in charge of the whole thing. I can't possibly do it myself if I'm going to be training as an Auror, and you have a lot of personal experience with the same kind of Ministry prejudice that hurt the Muggle-borns and half-bloods. I think you'd be the perfect person to do this."

"But I'm a werewolf," Remus protested. "Very few witches and wizards are comfortable around my kind; do you think that it would be fair to these people you want to help to force them to interact with someone they're almost certain to see as terrifying?"

"It's no different from the prejudices they themselves face," said Harry firmly. "The only time you're any kind of threat is at the full moon, and Kingsley promised to find someone sufficiently skilled at potions to prepare the Wolfsbane Potion for you each month. I'm sure Professor Slughorn has the ability, for instance. Even if you stay on the premises, you'd be safe to be around, and we'd get someone else in those nights to handle any emergencies."

"Give me a few days to think about it," said Remus.

"Of course, no trouble." Harry looked relieved. "I know it would be a big change for you, a big responsibility, but you really are the person I would trust the most to do a good job."

Over the next few days Remus considered the proposal carefully. He was flattered by Harry's – and Kingsley's – confidence in him. Moreover it was tempting to take on a position of responsibility, proving to the wizarding world that someone of his sort could be trusted with authority. Remus's own experiences gave him a good deal of understanding of the difficulties the displaced had suffered. The only real negative would be not being able to live with Teddy... but Andromeda did an excellent job of mothering him, and it might even be better for the boy if Remus were not around, thus reducing the tension in the household. He supposed he would have some time off, and could visit Teddy regularly.

On the fourth day after Harry had offered him the position, Remus owled to accept it.

* * *

  
Getting the Black house ready for its new purpose took surprisingly little time. In less than a fortnight, Harry agreed with Remus that they could start advertising the presence of the new Sirius Black Memorial House.

" _The Daily Prophet_ and _The Quibbler_ aren't enough," Remus insisted. "If many of our possible clients have gone underground in the Muggle world, we need to reach them through Muggle channels somehow."

Harry nodded. "Did you have any ideas?"

"Perhaps flyers, enchanted so that Muggles would see an ordinary advertisement of a room to let. The telephone number should connect them to a message machine saying that it's already been taken. Magical folk, though, would see information on this place," said Remus. "I think flyers would work best; it might be too difficult to enspell every copy of a newspaper or magazine to do the same with an advertisement there."

"I think you're right. Flyers sound like a good method to me. We could also arrange for an advert on the Wizarding Wireless, for those who might have access to that."

"And if you can think of suitably discreet phrasing, perhaps even something on the Muggle radio," said Remus. "Beyond that it will have to be word of mouth, I suspect."

"Open to all who are eligible, of course," said Harry.

"That was my understanding of what you wanted," said Remus." As long as the person or family can demonstrate that they were unjustly persecuted owing to their blood status, we will take them in until they can find more permanent arrangements in the wizarding world. We won't know how long that will take on average until we've had a few finish the whole process, I suppose."

"I think I'll see if Professor McGonagall will lend me a few house-elves from Hogwarts," said Harry. "Kreacher is far better about dealing with non-purebloods than he used to be, but if we fill every bedroom and add more, there'll be far too much work for him to manage alone."

"That would be a great help. We've set up the meeting rooms. There will be two different Ministry personnel here daily, one from record-keeping and one from personnel. They'll work closely with other folks back in the Ministry itself, but it will be the same two people _here_ every day, so as to build trusting relationships with the displaced."

"What about getting a healer from St Mungo's?" asked Harry.

"Again, there will be someone here regularly during the day for consultation. We'll start with full days and see if that's necessary, or if perhaps just mornings or just afternoons would be sufficient. St Mungo's has promised to have additional staff on call at night and over the weekends in case they're needed."

"You seem to have everything well in hand," Harry complimented Remus. "I _knew_ you were the right person to run this."

Remus flushed. "Thank you," he muttered. "Er. You're not starting with the Aurors for another several weeks, right?"

"No, why?"

"The full moon is in five days. Kingsley is arranging for someone to make me the Wolfsbane Potion, but you'll need to be here during that time, since even with the potion I'm still in wolf form and can't handle anything personally."

"Of course," said Harry. "For future months we'll have to figure something out. Perhaps Hermione could take over just for that day or two. She's taking a final year at Hogwarts, but I'm sure Professor McGonagall would give permission, and Hermione can handle missing a class or two if necessary better than anyone. Since she helped come up with the idea, I think she'd like to contribute."

"Hermione would do a fine job, I'm sure," agreed Remus, glad to have taken care of that problem so easily. "I wonder how soon all our rooms will be filled?"

Quite soon, as it turned out. Within a week of placing the first advertisements, Remus had had to call in engineers from the Ministry to add wizarding space for extra rooms.

Turnover was surprisingly rapid. Most clients were there for a week or two, a month at the most. Niniane Bushmill from the Ministry devised a process whereby if three wizards or witches could testify to basic facts on behalf of one of the displaced, that information would be used to re-create their records. For instance, the members of old O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. examining committees remembered many of the displaced as having taken the examinations, even if they did not always recollect the exact scores.

Finding new employment was often more difficult. When a job had been filled by someone else who was performing it competently, the displaced person was generally out of luck and had to seek something else. Professor McGonagall at Hogwarts hired some for the ongoing repairs to the castle and grounds, but those were not long-term positions, only for a few months to a year until the castle was restored. The Ministry was always looking for new people, as current personnel left for one or another reason, and likewise other wizarding shops and businesses, but matching previous skills and experience to the positions available could be tricky.

Remus was kept busy interviewing new clients, talking with and encouraging current inhabitants, and following up on those who had left to ensure that they were doing well.

To his surprise, very few of the displaced made any mention of his lycanthropy or seemed bothered by it. He suspected that Harry had talked with the first few to arrive, and that they had passed the word along that they were to treat Remus with the respect they themselves wished to have. Regardless, he was relieved.

Even with all the many things he had to do, Remus found time to visit his son regularly, usually on Sundays and Wednesday evenings when a Ministry person stood in for him. That arrangement appeared to be working well. Now that he was not living with her, Andromeda seemed far more relaxed around Remus, and certainly he had no fault to find with her attachment to and care of Teddy.

One Wednesday evening he had just returned to Grimmauld Place from such a visit and was puttering around the kitchen to fix himself a cup of tea – any of the house-elves would gladly have made it for him, but Remus rather enjoyed making it himself and at this late hour he wasn't in their way – when there was a sound at the areaway door.

That was odd. That door was normally kept locked, and everyone staying at the halfway house knew to use the front door instead. Perhaps it was a cat belonging to one of the Muggle neighbours, Remus thought, but then he heard the sound again. This time it was quite distinctly a knock.

Remus switched off the gas under the kettle and hurried to the door, opening it. A black-robed figure lurched inside, almost falling into Remus's arms. Remus pushed back the hood that covered the man's face and gasped.

"Severus!"

It _was_ Severus Snape, Remus was sure of that. The beaky nose and lank dark hair were unmistakable. He was in terrible shape, though, gaunt to the point of emaciation, his throat disfigured with angry red scars.

"Let me help you to the table," he said quickly.

Snape tried to walk, but Remus ended up half-carrying him there, depositing him in a chair and watching to make sure he was able to stay upright in it. Hastily he finished making the pot of tea and brought a cup to Snape.

"I put two sugars in this," he said. "I know you prefer it unsweetened, but you look like you need something with more substance."

Snape pushed the cup away without looking at Remus. "I won't drink it." His voice was hoarse, as if he had not spoken in weeks. "No sugar. Bring me a biscuit if you must."

Remus shrugged. He took that cup for himself and poured Snape a fresh one. Rummaging in the pantry he found a tin of mixed biscuits and brought it out, noting without surprise that Snape selected shortbread, the least sweet of the possibilities.

He wasn't entirely certain if Snape knew where he was, or who he was talking to, except that it seemed unlikely he would be willing to accept help from a stranger. Snape sat in silence, taking only sips of his tea and nibbling at his shortbread. Remus waited for him to speak. He had found that to be the most effective strategy to take with the majority of the displaced with whom he had been working, and thought it would serve in these circumstances as well.

At last Snape spoke.

"Lupin."

"Yes," Remus answered, relieved to know that Snape was enough in his right mind to recognise him.

"What are you doing here?"

Remus stared at him a moment, then laughed. "What am _I_ doing here? I _live_ here. You're at the Sirius Black Memorial House, a kind of halfway house for half-bloods and Muggle-borns. We provide shelter and reintegration assistance for those whose lives were displaced under Voldemort's minions. What are _you_ doing here?"

Snape shook his head slowly. "I don't know. I thought... safe house. A place to rest, recover." His fingers tightened around the teacup, and he set it down carefully.

Watching, Remus realised that Snape was exhausted. "Come with me," he said firmly. "You need to sleep. We can talk in the morning." Black eyes stared dully at him as Remus helped Snape stand up. All the rooms were full, as usual, so Remus decided to put Snape in his own bed. He could sleep on the floor for one night – a transfigured pillow would serve well enough as a mattress – and could decide what to do in the morning. Regardless of anything else, he wanted someone from St Mungo's to examine Snape and see how he was physically. Those scars looked dreadful.

Snape resisted letting Remus undress him, so Remus gave up after removing only Snape's cloak and shoes. He needed a bath rather badly, but that could wait until tomorrow as well. Within two minutes, Snape was fast asleep.

Remus lay on the floor on his transfigured mattress, his thoughts roiling. Where had Snape been all these months? How had he survived? Harry had been certain that Nagini's bite had killed him. Of course, Harry had been certain that _Remus_ was dead, too, and that had been untrue. And why had Snape come _here_ , tonight?

Sternly he told himself to put all speculation aside for now and sleep. There was nothing to be done until morning.

Snape was still asleep when Remus woke. Quietly he found his clothes for the day, and after a moment's thought, laid out a dressing gown and towel, and found some clean clothes that he hoped might fit Snape not too badly. Snape had been in Twelve Grimmauld Place a number of times; he could locate the bathroom for himself.

Breakfast was much as usual, the dining room noisy with all the clients and their children coming in and out. During the very first week of operation Remus had decided, in consultation with the house-elves, that a buffet arrangement would work best since people preferred different foods and different eating schedules. The elves ensured that a variety of breakfast dishes were available between six-thirty and nine; after that there was always bread and jam, fruit and tea for a latecomer.

This morning Remus took time before beginning his usual tasks to send an owl to Harry with the news of Snape's reappearance, and as an afterthought, one to Kingsley as well. Given what Harry had mentioned regarding Snape's memories he'd seen in the Pensieve, Remus didn't think Snape was in _too_ much danger of being sent to Azkaban for war crimes, but Kingsley would not take kindly to being left uninformed.

At half past eleven, having had no sight of Snape, Remus's concern took him upstairs. He knocked and found his bedroom empty. He might have panicked at the idea that Snape had disappeared again, but he saw that the dressing gown and other things he had left out were missing, and concluded that Snape was probably in the bath. Remus sat down to wait, and sure enough, a few minutes later Snape came in, his hair damp, the borrowed clothes hanging loosely on his gaunt frame. He stopped short when he saw Remus.

"So you _are_ here." Snape looked wary.

"Very much so," said Remus. "Are you feeling better now?"

Snape nodded, still looking poised for flight.

"Come downstairs and have something to eat, and then perhaps we can talk." Remus rose and led the way.

The house-elf in charge of the dining room that lunchtime took one look at Snape and brought him beef broth, stewed fruit, and rice pudding. When Remus would have protested, Snape shook his head.

"This is more than I can manage as it is." He ate slowly, often putting his spoon down between bites as if it were too heavy to hold, but he did finish the broth and the fruit and two-thirds of the pudding before he declared himself finished.

"Good," Remus said, looking at the time. "I owled the Minister that you were here, and he wants to see you."

"The Minister?"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt. I'm sure he'll have questions for you, about how you survived, at the very least. Harry reported that you had been killed by the snake."

Snape touched his throat reflexively. "Yes."

"Kingsley should be here in a few minutes. We'll wait in my office."

It was more of a cubbyhole than an office, really, just big enough for a desk and chair and a couple of filing cabinets, but Remus managed to cram another pair of chairs into it so that they could all sit. If Kingsley brought anyone else, he or she would just have to wait in the hall.

The Minister was prompt. He strode into Remus's office, his eyes raking Snape's figure. "Have you verified his identity?" he snapped at Remus, who blinked.

"Not precisely," Remus said, ashamed not to have taken that elementary precaution. He thought about it. "What was the name of the girl who sat between the two of us in fourth-year Charms?"

"Eglantine Smethwick," said Snape promptly, and Remus nodded, turning to Kingsley.

"It's Severus."

"All right." Kingsley pushed the door shut and sat in the chair by the desk, leaving the other two for Remus and Snape. He rested his elbows on the arms and steepled his fingers together, looking at Snape thoughtfully. "Tell me what happened the year you spent as Headmaster, and especially the end of it, the Battle of Hogwarts."

Snape shrugged. "I don't remember everything."

"What you _do_ remember, then," said Kingsley impatiently. "Come, man, I haven't all day to spend on this."

"Harry told us that Dumbledore required you to promise to kill him when it was necessary," offered Remus. "I assume that your taking on the position of Headmaster was also something that you and Dumbledore discussed?"

The tension in Snape's body eased very slightly now that Remus had broken the ice. "Yes. With my years of teaching experience at Hogwarts, it seemed likely that I would be chosen as Headmaster once the Dark Lord's influence was felt. I knew that if I accepted, there was some chance I could mitigate the worst of what the Carrows would do, divert their attention to meaningless marching drills for instance."

"Yes, understood." Kingsley cocked his head. "I will want a full written report in the future, with whatever verification you can muster, but for now, we'll let that pass. At the moment I'm more interested in hearing how you survived the snake's bite when no one else is known to have done so."

"I didn't know whether Harry would prevail in the end or not, of course," said Snape wearily, "but I guessed that the Dark Lord would sacrifice me and any of his other supporters if necessary to prevail. The snake was one obvious possible threat to my life, so I regularly dosed myself with a strong anti-venin. It was a general brew, not specific to her species, but it sufficed, if just barely. I also kept a bezoar in my pocket as additional insurance. After transferring my memories to Potter, I allowed myself to appear as if dead. Otherwise I feared he would not leave to go do what he had to do. Once I was alone, I managed to reach the bezoar, and that recovered me just enough to Apparate away, although the effort exhausted me."

"And where have you been all these months?"

"Does it matter?" countered Snape. "I received no aid or assistance from anyone until I came here last night, if that is what concerns you."

Kingsley gave Snape a peculiar look. "I suppose I might have expected that. Hold out your arm, please."

Snape did so. As Kingsley snapped a silver bracelet around his wrist, he murmured, "And _I_ should have expected _that_."

"Indeed." Kingsley evidently caught Remus's bewildered expression, for he added, "The security bracelet has a function similar to the Trace we put on underage witches and wizards. Severus will not be able to go anywhere or use any magic without our knowledge." To Snape he said, "You will have to come before the Wizengamot for examination. The day after tomorrow, at nine o'clock. I'll send someone to escort you."

"I can come with him," Remus offered quietly.

"I do not require an escort," said Snape.

"Nevertheless you will have one. I am bending the rules for you enough as it is by permitting you to remain here until then. Remus, thank you. You may escort him. I will see you both then; I must get back now." He rose, inclined his head slightly, and exited the room.

Snape sat, scowling.

"Please don't be upset that I offered to escort you," said Remus. "I thought you might prefer _me_ to being marched in by some Auror."

"I suppose so." Snape's voice was grudging. "I might have known I would have to stand before the Wizengamot."

"If it's necessary, I'm certain Harry will speak on your behalf. I sent him an owl to let him know of your reappearance. I expect he will reply tonight; he's training as an Auror, now, so I doubt he'll be able to answer earlier. In the meantime... you may certainly stay here for the next few nights. We add wizarding space rooms as necessary, so you'll be able to have a room to yourself. There simply wasn't time last night to arrange it. A team of Ministry wizards creates them; I can't do it myself."  
Snape nodded.

"And I might suggest that you mingle as little as possible with the other residents for the time being. Even though you're a half-blood yourself, your past public affiliation with Voldemort is likely to cause problems. I think any rehabilitation efforts should wait until after you've seen the Wizengamot and heard their decision."

"I had already reached that conclusion myself, Lupin," said Snape dryly, "but thank you for the advice." He sighed. "I owe you an apology."

"None is necessary." Remus shrugged.

"Yes, it is. Not for tonight... for years ago. I am sincerely sorry that I exposed you as a werewolf when you were teaching at Hogwarts. That was ill-done of me. I know how much it meant to you, to be there."

Remus swallowed. "Thank you. Perhaps it was for the best, in the end." He didn't entirely believe that, but how else could he respond, when Snape did seem genuinely repentant?

They sat for a few moments more in silence before Remus stood up. "I'll go arrange for your room. Perhaps you would like to wait in the library? I'll come and find you there when it's ready."

Snape nodded. "Fine."

The construction team had the room ready, furnishings and all, in just under two hours. Remus found Snape sitting tailor-fashion on the floor of the library, with a stack of half a dozen books sitting beside him as he browsed through another.

"Severus? Let me show you where your new room is," said Remus. "You can bring those with you, if you like."

Snape stood and picked up the books. "Thank you."

"This way," said Remus.

The room was on the third floor, with the other single wizards. It was, naturally, at the far end of the increasingly long hallway, a fact on which Snape commented.

"When someone leaves, we put the next new arrival in his room," Remus said, "but we were full up last night, so you had to be added, and the new rooms are always at the end. I gather it's easier to keep stretching the wizarding space in a single direction."

"I see."

They had by now arrived at Snape's new quarters, and he looked around. "This should be quite comfortable."

A single bed stood in the centre of the room, flanked by a small wardrobe and a writing desk. The bed was made up with a cheerful plaid coverlet, and a rug brightened the floor.

"There is a lavatory added for every six rooms," Remus explained, "and the bathroom – showers actually, rather like the arrangements in the Hogwarts dormitories – is back by the stairs. But you saw those this morning, didn't you?"

"I did," said Snape. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "I think I will rest a little now, if that's all right? What time is dinner?"

"Dinner is available any time between five and nine," said Remus. "The house-elves clear everything away at nine, though, so it's best not to arrive later than about eight forty-five." He hesitated a moment. "I generally eat at seven, if you would like to eat with me?"

Snape's eyes were already closed, as he stretched out on the bed, but he nodded. "I would like that, I think."

"Rest well, then, and I'll see you at dinner. Just meet me there; I'll save a place for you." Remus left, closing the door softly behind him.

He hurried back to his own room, locked the door and cast a silencing charm, and freed his aching prick from its confinement. A groan escaped him as he began to stroke himself.

He had loved Tonks in his own way, but it had always been men who attracted him most, and his feelings for Snape went back to their school days, though complicated by all of the choices each of them had made over the years. For many reasons he had tried to conceal those emotions, and believed he had mostly succeeded. Nor was he certain whether Snape himself was queer, though he suspected it. At one time Snape and Lily had certainly been close friends, but that did not necessarily signify much. Remus had never known Snape to be in a relationship with _anyone_ , witch or wizard, since they had left school.

Bony, exhausted, and perhaps straight as he was, Snape today had still had enough of his old self in him that Remus had been sternly suppressing himself for hours. Seeing him sprawled on his bed had been the grain that tipped the scales. That the full moon was only a few nights off merely intensified Remus's reaction. His fingers flew faster over his cock, and he came with Snape's name on his lips.

A simple cleaning charm tidied him up, and he returned downstairs to his office and the work that awaited there.

Snape arrived in the dining room just as Remus was taking a plate to choose his meal. As usual, the house-elves had provided a wide range of alternatives, each chafing dish neatly labelled. Remus bypassed the curried chickpeas and instead chose a courgette stuffed with a spicy meat filling. Potatoes with gravy and stewed tomatoes rounded out the plate. He watched to be sure that Snape took adequate helpings, too; led him to his favourite seat near the end of one of the long tables; and offered to get him a drink.

Snape shook his head. "Thank you, but I am capable of carrying my own glass."

"As you wish." Remus chose a lager that he thought would go well with his spicy courgette. Adults staying at the halfway house were permitted one alcoholic beverage _gratis_ each evening; spells ensured that they could take no more than one, and that the underaged could have only Butterbeer, milk, or other innocuous beverages. Those were unlimited. Snape took a glass of milk.

They began to eat, Snape clearly hungry but restraining himself from eating too much or too fast. Remus approved.

"Did you rest well this afternoon?" he asked.

Snape finished his mouthful of steak and kidney pie before answering. "Yes, thank you. Have you heard anything from Harry?"

"Not yet. He might simply turn up tonight instead of sending a message. I'll let you know, of course, if he does."

Snape touched the side of his fork to a sprout, watching it roll across his plate. "Perhaps... would you mind if I waited with you for him? I could read one of those books I've found in the library here. Or would that be an imposition on you?"

"Not at all an imposition. I'd be happy to have you wait with me. I generally spend evenings in the parlour or the library, myself; sometimes I'll play a game of wizarding chess with one of the clients, although I'm an indifferent player at best."

"Yes," murmured Snape. He took a drink of his milk, and his tongue crept out to lick up the droplets that clung to the corners of his mouth.

Remus felt his breath quicken, and glanced away. "Or if you would like to talk and prefer privacy, we could sit in my office; although as you know it's a bit crowded."

"The library is fine, thank you."

Remus was somewhat disappointed, but concealed the fact. "The library it is, then. No rush, whenever you've finished eating. There are sweets and cheeses and fruit over on the other table too; I think the treacle tart is particularly good."

It was quarter past nine and Remus was starting to nod over his book, a Muggle novel,* when the house-elf Kreacher appeared and tugged at his sleeve.

"Master Harry is in the kitchen, Sir, asking to see you," he said in a hoarse whisper.

Remus jerked completely awake. "What? Oh. Excellent. Tell him we will be there in a few minutes."

Kreacher nodded and vanished. Remus rose and went over to Snape.

"Harry's here, down in the kitchen," he said quietly.

"The kitchen?"

"Probably to avoid attention," said Remus. "He set this place up, and people always want to thank him personally if they see him."

Snape nodded. "I understand."

"Come on, then."

Harry was chatting with Kreacher and the other house-elves, who had provided him with a large slice of chocolate gateau and a glass of milk while he waited. His mouth dropped open as Snape entered the kitchen.

"Professor Snape, it's really you! Not that I thought Remus would have lied, or even that he was mistaken, I just..." He shook his head. "...I was so certain that I saw you die."

"You _had_ to think so. You never did master Occlumency, and if the Dark Lord had seen in your thoughts that I was not dead, he would have returned or sent someone else to ensure my demise by more direct means, such as a knife in the throat or the Killing Curse, something I could not have counteracted."

"I guess that makes sense, but why wait so long to make yourself known?" Harry asked.

Remus wondered if Snape would evade Harry's questions the way he had Kingsley's, and waited with some curiosity to hear Snape's answer.

Snape looked down at his hands, which were splayed out on the table. "A fair question."

The silence lengthened.

At last Snape said, "I did not, in fact, intend to return at all. I didn't know that _this_ ," he gestured vaguely at the refurbished kitchen and the activity of the house-elves, "was going on here. I intended to stay in what I thought would be a secure, deserted location from which I might more readily find out what was happening than at Spinner's End. Had I known that coming here would place me before the Wizengamot..." His narrow bony shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

"The Wizengamot?" Harry asked, and Remus answered.

"Kingsley was here earlier today; I felt I had to inform him too. Severus is obliged to appear before the court in two days, and I'm to escort him."

"I'm sure it's just a formality," Harry said quickly. "But if you need any kind of character witness, I'd be happy to oblige."

"Thank you," said Snape gravely.

"You wouldn't have come back?" Curiosity impelled Remus to ask.

Snape's eyes flickered toward Remus, then away. "I had little reason to, you must admit, and I am weary," he said simply.

 _That_ Remus could well understand. Thinking of the efforts they had all put in against Voldemort and the Death Eaters still made him tired, and both Snape's burdens and his injuries had been greater yet. No wonder he had been tempted to consider staying away from the wizarding world.

"I'm glad to know you're alive, though," said Harry. "Will you be staying here?"

"Certainly until after my hearing," said Snape. "After that I don't know."

"You'd be more than welcome to stay. In a sense you, too, are one of the displaced. We could trade stories of misbehaving students," said Remus, carefully not looking at Harry.

He almost thought that Snape smiled. "I suspect I have many more such stories than you would."

"Very likely," Remus agreed, "but I would enjoy hearing yours."

Then Harry said, "Perhaps tonight isn't the best time, but another day, would you be willing to tell me what you remember of my mother? Remus knew her when she was older, but you and she were friends as children. I'd like to know more about her. Aunt Petunia certainly never discussed my mother with me."

Snape nodded. "Some other time, but yes. I would be pleased to."

"Thanks." Harry finished his tea and stood up. "I'm afraid I have to go, but I meant what I said before. If you need me to come before the Wizengamot with you, send an owl. No trouble. And I'll drop by here every week or so to see how things are going."

"Thank you, Harry," said Snape, and Remus nodded his agreement.

* * *

  
The next day Remus followed his usual routine, leaving Snape to rest or read as he liked, although he did make it a point to sit with Snape at meal times and make sure he ate a reasonable amount.

For Snape's appearance before the Wizengamot, Remus had Kreacher search out a set of formal robes that had once belonged to some member of the Black family. Not Sirius, Remus thought, as they looked a little more old-fashioned than that, and besides Sirius had probably taken his dress robes with him when he left his parents' house. Whosesoever they had been, they fitted Snape well enough and conveyed the proper sense of dignity. Snape still looked gaunt and ill, but if anything that ought to incline the members of the Wizengamot in his favour, or so Remus hoped.

He was not permitted into the hearing itself. Instead he had to wait, ever more impatiently, in the hallway outside, sitting on one of the hard benches scattered along the corridor. When Snape finally emerged from the room, after the members of the council had all left, Remus jumped up.

"Are you all right?"

Snape nodded, looking somewhat bemused.

"What happened? I gather you didn't need to ask for Harry's testimony, since I didn't see him go in."

"They asked me a great deal about the agreement that I struck with Albus, and what I had done while acting as Headmaster," he answered.

"I assume you've been cleared, or you wouldn't be here," said Remus, letting his voice rise upward questioningly.

"More or less. They want a list of every person whom I know to have been a Death Eater, or even a lesser supporter; I suppose to ensure they haven't missed anyone, although I can't imagine I will have any new information, after all these months. What happened to the Malfoys, by the way?"

Remus began walking toward the lift. "Lucius is serving time in Azkaban. Narcissa and Draco are under a modified Trace for several years, to prevent them from doing any magic without Ministry knowledge. I suppose it's like that bracelet Kingsley put on you, come to think of it."

He glanced quickly at Snape's now-bare wrist.

"The family also paid a substantial fine. All of Voldemort's followers received similar types of penalties: prison for the worst offenders, public service or financial reparations for others.. Some of those monies support our work here, which seems to me quite appropriate."

"Quite."

Snape was silent the rest of the time until they had left the Ministry building. "I'm not to be sent to Azkaban, and I certainly haven't the funds to pay any sort of fine; there was not even a mention of doing service. I _would_ like, though, to do something to help... in memory of Albus."

"I expect I could find something for you," said Remus after a moment's thought. "We have a staff member on loan from St Mungo's, and he regularly needs Calming Draughts and other potions, for instance. Some of our clients are fairly traumatised still."

"Whatever you think best," said Snape. "However I can be of use."

* * *

  
The healer from St Mungo's was glad to have Snape's assistance in preparing potions for their resident clients. St Mungo's provided the ingredients and Remus arranged the creation of another wizarding space room off the kitchen to give Snape a place to work. They continued to take their meals together most days, and if Snape had nothing brewing that required his attention, he might sit and read near Remus after dinner, or occasionally play a game of wizarding chess.

Some weeks slipped by in this fashion. One Monday evening Snape inquired, "Where do you go to at weekends? I noticed your absence at the last full moon, but yesterday the moon was far from full, and yet you weren't here."

"I was visiting my son," Remus answered.

Snape was plainly startled. "Your son?"

"Yes. Teddy lives with his grandmother Andromeda. His mother died at the Battle of Hogwarts, and this arrangement seems to be for the best, for now anyway."

"I see." Snape looked thoughtful. "I will have the Wolfsbane Potion for you next week, by the way," he added.

"Thank you. I appreciate that; no one prepares it better than you do," said Remus.

He thought he discerned a faint stain of red on Snape's sallow cheeks, but the other man merely said, "It's just a matter of taking proper care, that's all."

There was an undercurrent in the tone of his voice that surprised Remus. Was Snape indicating, in his own reluctant and inimitable way, that he cared for Remus, considered him a friend? Remus hoped so. All his oldest friends were long dead, and having Snape around reminded him of just how lonely he had been for so very long. Sirius's time out of Azkaban, the months he and Tonks had had together, had not made up for years of isolation and shunning by wizarding society. Things were better now; at least he was respected by the Halfway House clients and doing useful work, but Remus had no illusions that a werewolf would ever be welcomed with open arms. Snape was now nearly as much of a pariah, and perhaps understood Remus better than anyone else, sympathetic though Harry, Hermione, Kingsley, and a few others were.

When Snape brought him the Wolfsbane Potion the following week, Remus let his fingers graze Snape's wrist as he took it, and invited him to have a cup of tea while Remus drank the potion.

Snape shrugged. "I suppose I can spare time for that."

"Good."

Remus popped down to the kitchen and requested that one of the house-elves bring tea for the two of them. He would rather have prepared it himself, but the elves were busy getting dinner, and he knew it would actually be less trouble to them to make the tea than to have Remus getting in their way.

"How are you enjoying brewing potions for our needs here?" he asked Snape when he returned.

"Well enough. I've restocked everything Gladys wants to have on hand. I was considering whether I might purchase some ingredients on my own and make some additional potions, perhaps on commission for an apothecary or two directly, or sell them by advertising in the _Prophet_. I doubt Minerva would ever want me back teaching at Hogwarts even if students' parents wouldn't object, and I have no great desire to return to teaching in any case, but I had better be thinking about how to make a living once my services to this establishment are no longer required."

"I suppose so," said Remus. He had not given a great deal of thought to the future, but Snape was right. The halfway house wouldn't be needed forever. Another year or two, three or four at the utmost was probably its life span. Remus himself would need to be thinking about what else he might do eventually.

* * *

  
Snape had naturally taken over making the Wolfsbane Potion for Remus, which was a distinct benefit of his presence. Remus was unsure whether Snape had tweaked the potion somewhat, or whether it was merely his superior precision in brewing, but his version was both more effective and – somewhat – more palatable than the Ministry-supplied brew. He told Snape as much, by way of encouragement in his new endeavour.

That project began slowly. Snape chose potions to brew that were relatively difficult for most wizards or witches to prepare at home, but that had high demand and good profit margins. He invested what he made into additional ingredients and equipment, until after a few months he came to Remus to say that he would need more room to continue to expand his operation.

"I shall be looking for something to rent, perhaps in Diagon Alley," he said. "It would be inappropriate for me to remain here. I was never truly one of the dispossessed, and I am fully recovered physically."

"There's no need to feel obliged to leave," Remus assured him. "We've been so successful at integrating clients back into wizarding society that as you know we have empty rooms these days, instead of having to keep adding them. Your presence is no imposition. I enjoy your company."

"Nevertheless it costs something for the halfway house to keep feeding me, to provide my room and accommodation for my work. I feel it would be better if I left." Snape's face was set stubbornly.

"If you feel you must," sighed Remus.

He dashed off a hasty note to Harry that night, however. As the founder and titular owner of the Sirius Black Memorial House, perhaps Harry could persuade Snape that he need not leave. Harry had dropped by only the night before, as he did about once a week, but this news ought to bring him back sooner than usual.

"What's this I hear about you finding new digs?" Harry asked cheerfully two evenings later, pulling up a chair to where Snape and Remus sat in the library. A number of the House's clients were also in the room, but the nearest cluster had the Wizarding Wireless on at a high enough volume that their conversation would be effectively private.

"I can't expect you to continue to support me when I am perfectly capable of doing so myself," said Snape. "Business is good enough now that I can afford a flat of my own." He shot Remus a reproving look. "Lupin had no call to bring you into this."

"Of course he had. You are valued here," said Harry.

"I am more than willing to continue to supply potions for treatment as long as they are needed," said Snape.

"It's not just your potions," Remus said. "We also value your presence."

"I know you feel you're fully recovered, but has anyone from St Mungo's examined you? What if you were to have a relapse or delayed reaction of some kind?" added Harry.

"I doubt that any reaction would be delayed for as long as _this_ ," said Snape dryly. "I concede, however, that I have not had a formal medical examination. If I'm given a clean bill of health, may I depart without further attempts at dissuasion?"

"Do you _really_ want to leave so badly?" Remus asked, unable to keep all of the wistfulness from his tone.

"I..." Snape paused, an uncharacteristic hesitation.

"Just think about it," said Harry. "Go in to St Mungo's, have yourself checked over, and don't rush into anything. I'm fine with Remus arranging for you to have more space here if you need it. In fact, if you _are_ planning to increase production, perhaps you might need assistance – and there are plenty of potential employees right here, you know. Surely some of them have the skills you would require."

"I hadn't thought of that," Snape admitted.

"So, think about it." Harry yawned. "Sorry. Long day today. I'd better be going. Remus, can I talk to you for a minute in your office?"

"Of course," said Remus, rising.

"Does he _know_?" Harry asked once they were in private.

"Know what?"

"How you feel about him." Harry's green eyes were intent. "That you love him."

That was a word Remus had avoided using even to himself, but he could not deny that it was true.

"Merlin, I hope not," he said.

"That's something you might reconsider. I could be wrong, but I think that one reason Severus wants to leave is because he feels the same towards you, doesn't realise your affection, and can't see staying here without hope." Harry gave Remus a wry grin. "Like I said, I might be completely wrong about this, but would it hurt you to see if I'm right?"

Before Harry left, Remus promised that he would think about it. He wondered what it was Harry had seen or sensed in Snape that Remus himself had failed to notice, and spent the next couple of days surreptitiously studying Snape when he saw him at meals and in the evenings.

Snape seemed anxious to move forward with his business expansion plans, asking Remus to give him a list of those Halfway House clients who had taken a N.E.W.T. in Potions and earned an E or an O. He also went off to St Mungo's one afternoon and returned to inform Remus over dinner, with understated smugness, that the healer to whom he had spoken was astonished at how well he had recovered from the snake venom, and had had the hospital place an order with him for a large supply of the antidotes he had used.

"Excellent. That's excellent," repeated Remus, a little hollowly. He really _was_ pleased for Snape, and tried hard to ignore the pinpricks of jealousy that Snape seemed poised to achieve such success. He had earned it, with all he had suffered.

"A question for you, Lupin," Snape said as they settled into their accustomed chairs in the library.

"Yes?" Remus expected to be asked his opinion on someone's suitability to assist Snape in his laboratory.

"Is there some reason why you've been staring at me for the past few days? I am fairly certain that I don't have ink on my nose, or anything of that sort, to draw your attention," said Snape.

Remus flushed. He hadn't realised he was being so obvious. "No. Sorry. I don't know," he muttered.

Snape gave him a long opaque stare. "All right."

Perversely, once Snape had dismissed the subject, Remus felt the urge to continue it. "Actually..." He dug his nails into his palms, and plunged ahead. "Would you like to have a nightcap with me tonight?"

Snape's eyes widened, but all he said was, "Yes."

Remus pretended to be reading the _Daily Prophet_ for the rest of the evening, but he didn't take in a single word. His stomach felt as though a troop of Cornish pixies had taken up residence there and were having a party.

At nine-thirty he put aside the paper and stood up, saying as calmly as he could manage, "Ready for that drink?"

"Certainly."

Remus had thought about taking Snape to his office, but that didn't really seem suitable. Besides, if Harry was right, as Remus desperately hoped, they might just want to be somewhere comfortable. They were both grown men, unattached, and anything might happen.

Snape didn't comment on the fact that Remus kept a bottle of whisky in his room. He took the glass Remus poured him and lifted it in silent salute, sitting on the one chair that the room boasted while Remus perched on the edge of the bed.

The liquor blazed a fiery trail down Remus's throat, warming his stomach and quelling some part of his anxieties. He took a second, larger gulp and sighed.

"Regrets, Lupin?"

Surprised, Remus said honestly, "Yes."

When Snape began to stand, he realised the other man must have misunderstood, and hastily added, "Not for asking you here tonight, Severus. I was speaking generally. Surely _you_ have done things in your life that you now regret?"

"Many." Snape's voice was harsh. "More than you can imagine."

Remus gave him a twisted smile. "I can imagine quite a few. Who knows, we might even share some."

"Perhaps." Snape stared at his nearly empty glass.

Remus held up the bottle. "More? I am." He poured himself another two fingers of the amber liquor.

"Well, if you are..." Snape held out his glass to be refilled.

"Have you found anyone yet to help you with your potion-making?" Remus asked.

"The person I would prefer is at present otherwise engaged." Snape's expression was indecipherable.

"Really? I didn't realise that anyone here had had an employment offer in the last few days," said Remus, surprised. "They usually inform me right away."

Snape dismissed the subject with a gesture and took a sip of his whisky. "Thank you," he said finally when his glass was empty, and rose. "Goodnight."

"You needn't go," Remus protested.

"It's late, and I've no reason to stay. I'll see you tomorrow," said Snape.

"If I could _give_ you a reason to stay, would you?" Remus asked, the whisky making him reckless.

"Perhaps. If it's a good enough reason."

Remus set his glass aside and stood, crossing to Snape and kissing him on the mouth before he could pull away. "Is _that_ a good enough reason?"

Snape grasped Remus's shoulders and held him close for another, much longer kiss. Remus's knees turned to jelly under the onslaught. It would appear that Harry had been correct.

"I take it that you're staying," he murmured when he had the opportunity to speak again.

"Obviously." Snape rolled his eyes, his hands busy unbuttoning Remus's cardigan, followed by his shirt.

They moved to the bed and lay down, still mostly clothed. Remus kicked off his shoes and heard them thump on the floor, followed by the sound of Snape's falling likewise. He couldn't get enough of the feel of Snape's angular body against him. He touched Snape everywhere, at first through his clothes and then bit by bit without them.

When Snape undressed him in return, Remus had no fear that he would recoil from the self-inflicted scars of the werewolf, any more than Remus himself held Snape to some arbitrary standard of male beauty. The experiences they had undergone had shaped them both, physically as well as mentally.

Snape's skin was cool against his own, Snape's fingers cold at first but warming as they touched Remus intimately. He lost himself in their mutual caresses, and shouted when his orgasm shattered through him unexpectedly, opening his eyes to see Snape's face sweaty and triumphant and equally gratified.

They dozed off still tangled together. Some time later Remus woke, chilled, reaching for the blanket, and saw Snape dressing to leave. Remus yawned.

"Stay."

"I'll sleep better in my own bed."

"Please?"

Snape finished dressing and came to give Remus a swift kiss. "I will see you at breakfast."

There was no point in arguing. The door closed behind Snape and Remus curled back up to sleep.

Remus felt somehow shy the next morning, and Snape seemed to feel the same, for he flashed Remus a fierce embarrassed smile as he carried over his plate of scrambled eggs and mushrooms and toast.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," said Remus. "Going to keep searching for an assistant today?"

"Actually..." Snape bit his lip. "I was wondering if _you_ might be interested, perhaps not immediately but when your current duties slow down enough to permit it. Part time, even, if you wanted; I would rather have you part time than anyone else, and I could hire someone else meanwhile to fill the gap."

"I'm flattered, Severus." Remus lifted his tea cup, then set it down. "This isn't just on account of last night, is it?" he asked in an undertone.

Snape shot him a look of disgust. "Only in that it gave me the hope that you might consider the offer," he said.

"Sorry. Yes. I'll talk with Harry about it, and perhaps Kingsley. Things _are_ starting to slow down here; I believe we have located all or nearly all of the displaced, and already helped many of them reintegrate into wizarding society. Our Ministry and hospital liaisons are down to half-days. It's probably not necessary for me to be full time anymore either, but I'll see what Harry has to say. Assuming he agrees, I can start whatever you like."

Snape's face was not built to express delight, but he came as close to it now as Remus had ever seen him. "When I came here hoping to find a quiet refuge, I was disappointed to find I had reached a charitable establishment for war refugees, founded in memory of Sirius Black, no less. But just like any of the others, it has given me my life back, and that is more than I ever hoped or expected."

"I agree completely," said Remus, smiling and reaching to take Severus's hand.

* * *

  
* For the curious, Remus is reading _Maurice_ by EM Forster. 


End file.
